The trouble with "the tribbles" in my life is that they are reproducing.

The tribbles are trouble. They come in many forms.

Overheating truck. Flooded apartment. Non-functioning air conditioning. Heating system that smells like something is burning (scary). Torn jeans. Broken sink sprayer. Funky smell of water in the wall (post flooded apartment). Lack of income and surmounting debt. Unexpected expenses.

The list really does go on...

The tribbles do not stop. They keep going. Each day brings another dozen tribbles. They are trouble.

I have no time. I have no motivation. My lack of time leads to lack of motivation which leads to... you guessed it, a lack of time.

I gotta get off this merry-go-round with these tribbles. They are quite troublesome. They are reproducing.

I have not lost faith. I am persevering. Perseverance breeds character- Jesus' character. Jesus' character is flawless, lacking nothing.

I have not lost hope. The hope set before me of life with Jesus; life of the fullest. The temporal nature of this present difficulty, how can it compare? The abundance of the now/here of Christ alive within me- beautiful. Nothing is more glorious than seeing Him face-to-face... but this present suffering sucks.

I despise these tribbles for they are trouble you know. But they will one day be gone. Jesus will remain. I will cling to Jesus and let the tribbles have their trouble.

He ran outside to breathe in the life of summer. The smell of flowers in full bloom, the feel of sunshine kissing his skin and the scent of water vapor thick upon the air declared to all who would dare pay attention that the solstice was beckoning them to bask in it's glory.

Young and relentless, inspired and hopeful he gazed upon the concrete canvas with his heart burning for the Love within his chest. With colors as varied as the flowers in the fields, he began to create. Shapes began to take form as lines began bending and twisting in artistic patterns with intent and purpose. The imagery of Passion took form in iconic symbols representing a sacrifice of utmost cost.

He poured his soul out upon the ground with such intense purpose. Purpose begot design. Design begot splendor. Splendor begot worship; worship of the One whom all life seemed to originate.

I stood there for a while watching as this artist decorated the sidewalk with imagination and adoration. His arms moving across the ground with ebb and flow. He had such a singular focus upon his creative masterpiece.

From a distance I admired the youthful glow of hope that exuded from this boy.

His eyes were the most telling. One look would melt the hardest of hearts and sooth such a ragged, vagabond soul like mine. In his eyes I saw such an innocence that only seemed like a faint memory for this ragamuffin.

I had to move closer.

I seemed to drift towards the boy without taking steps as if he had a gravitational vortex drawing me closer to him. As I began to approach the young boy, I noticed his hands were now covered in dust from the chalk creation being displayed upon the warm concrete. His knees were now a palette of colors too. Like a rainbow had gently caressed his leg with swirls of hues and tints only found in nature.

I now stood in front of him.

My shadow gracefully blanketed his artistic expressions of lines, shapes and tints. But this did not disrupt our young artisan as he continued to author his worshipful masterpiece.

Something captivated me about this boy.

Was it his passion or creativity? Was it the art now on display on his concrete canvas? What was it about this boy that piqued my curiosity and hypnotized my heart?

He slowly stopped his design of intent and purpose to look up at me.

There it was...

The thing that encapsulated my heart and fascinated my intellect. The thing that summoned my soul to gaze upon him with adoration. The thing most emanating from him was hope; hope that radiated from his heart through his eyes as clearly as the bright summer sun in the sky.

I got lost in those eyes for what seemed to be an eternity.

He slowly rose to his feet and stood up facing me. Although he did not stand more that a few feet tall, his low stature seemed grand in that moment.

His face. His face was familiar. A ghost of an image from the past that I could not readily identify but that I knew so well. It was like looking at an old friend whose life story was an open book and I knew every chapter. I was well acquainted with this boy.

His hands began to break free from his side as he started to move towards me without hesitation. I knelt down bracing myself on one knee as his body collided with mine. We embraced like a daddy and son.

I stood up lifting him from the ground with his heart beating rhythmically against my chest. His head resting gently on my shoulder. His hair brushing up against my cheek. His arms wrapped around my neck like a scarf.

I began to weep.

Sobbing with tears streaming down my face wetting his blond hair, I began to whisper, "It's ok. Everything will be ok. I missed you and I love you... David."

I clutched my childhood boy with love. He was the boy of myself that I had lost over the years. The boy whose hope spoke of a world not his home. The boy whose love knew no bounds. The boy whose innocence... whose innocence was pure, undefiled, and trusting.

The highlights from my past month in ministry would probably be best described as a tour of duty through a war zone- no kidding!

I have seen every area of my life attacked in one form or another- my friendships, my leadership, my family, my marriage, my parental responsibilities, my finances... you get the point. In the past (as in about 15 years ago), I would have tried to maneuver myself away from whatever was causing this disruption because something must be wrong- unconfessed sin or habitual disobedience. I learned through the process that some of that may be true. However, this month more often than not it was because I was doing something right that brought on the onslaught.

[Quick note: unconfessed sin and/or habitual disobedience towards God will bring about tension and brokenness in our lives. Ongoing sin patterns will disrupt our lives and potentially harm others. We must make our best effort to confess those things, stop doing them, ask for forgiveness, and move on towards Christ.]

I am learning from this past month that I must become a friend of adversity. That as a soldier on the front lines of war torn spirituality, that I must lean into and press up against the gates of Hell with all of Jesus' strength so that in doing so I might help rescue some POWs from the Enemy camp. This means that I am going to be shot at and that I might get a wound or two... but that I must keep going.

War is hell and taking on Hell is war. I cannot do it of my own power and strength but through Christ who strengthens me. I am realizing that I can fight fearlessly because I already died and you can't kill what has already died. As an adopted son of God, I will press into the battle advancing the Kingdom through His Spirit. I am trusting that though I do not have clarity on the outcome of the battle, I have faith and hope that the war has already been won.

I remember way back in grade school and Junior High my school would occasionally venture out on a Thursday night to the "Christian skate night" at our local roller skating rink (FunWay). This was always a crazy time for me filled with anticipation, fun, and nervous excitement. The smell of popcorn and floor cleaner filled the air. The noise of dozens of video games captured my heart for adventure while the flashing lights beckoned me to succumb to their blissful escapism.

Most of the night I would hang out with my guy friends. We would talk about girls, movies, BB guns, etc. Sometimes we would even debate the never ending deep questions in life like who was better- Luke or Han? Or what shows were the coolest- The A-Team, Star Trek, Knight Rider or Battlestar Galactica? We would vie for position by trying to get the DJ to play our favorite songs the most- Christian songs only, of course.

We would even skate sometimes... and that was the most unnerving part of the whole experience. The skating rink was slippery and the four wheels beneath me (not inline either) mocked me as if to say, "You can't do this ya chicken" as I tried to brave the ice-like oval of death... ok, maybe that's a bit dramatic. Without fail, down I would go; falling from my confidence back into my safe place of timidity... and the sidelines.

Then it would happen. The moment I had waited for all night- couple's skate for the last song. This was the convergence of time and space when all things slowed to a virtual halt and I would frantically search for that one special girl that I had been wanting to ask all night to skate with me. My mouth would instantly go dry while my hands seemed to get all of the moisture my mouth really needed. So I would do what any self-respecting male should do in that moment... I would run to the bathroom (well, skated really).

Upon having the "locker room prep talk" with my reflection in the mirror, I would carefully emerge from my solitude to begin my tunnel vision approach. Nothing else mattered at this point. It was as if the rest of the world was out-of-focus and only she was in focus. Which worked great until she noticed me. Then I'd slowly start to rethink my actions as my skates came to a halt and my knees started to buckle.

You see, this was a big deal. After all, it meant that we got to hold hands in public! That's like your Facebook status reading, "in a relationship." It was almost a guarantee of hooking up- rated 'G' style.

Out of the dark, unfocused blur of my vision would come a familiar voice, "David, (that's what they called me then) aren't you going to ask her to skate?" It was my best friend. The one in whom I had utmost confidence and utter confidentiality. We told each other everything and shared life together. My thoughts collided with emotions while I tried to reason my way in and out and back in to this situation.

"How did I get here and what am I doing?" I would wonder to myself.

It was always at this point that I would feel it- the nudge. My friend would gently nudge me and tell me to go ahead. His affirmation was the approval I needed to gain the confidence necessary to act but it was still up to me to move. It all started with his gentle nudge.

I get these same type of nudges from God, but more specifically, from the Spirit of Jesus alive within me. I know, it sounds weird. I could illustrate for you dozens of stories of how this is true in my life but one in particular is still echoing throughout my head and my heart.

Let's contextualize the story a bit with some background.

I attended Gateway's Advance Leadership Weekend this past September 11-12th. Neil Cole came to broaden our focus on what it means to "do church" and how to organically build into new leaders. For lunch on the Saturday the 12th, we had Chick-Fil-A sandwiches. They were generous and had coupons for free sandwiches laying on the table where our box lunches were located. I grabbed one not wanting to be greedy until I realized that I had no job and no steady income. Then I grabbed enough for one meal with my wife and son.

Then I paused...

Why not grab a whole handful? Chick-Fil-A doesn't care. I doubt Gateway minds. Half of the people attending that day had already grabbed their food and were off to their breakout session. Why not? Then I heard my mouth say out loud, "These would be great to give to homeless people. I'm gonna grab a whole bunch." Which actually ended up being four. The people around me heard me and started to do the same.

Flashforward to last week Friday.

My wife, son and I decided to spend the Friday before my son's birthday celebrating the entire day as a family. Even though his birthday was not until Monday, we made a weekend out of enjoying time with one another. As we were pulling up to the Chick-Fil-A at 183 and Braker in Austin, I noticed a ragamuffin, hobo looking guy begging for money.

The nudge happened. I felt Jesus nudge me to give this guy one of our Chick-Fil-A sandwich coupons. It was almost tangible it was so real. You may know exactly what I am talking about.

Then I started to rationalize the situation.

"But c'mon Jesus, he's three lanes over and this light is gre..." I though to myself as the light turned to yellow and then red.

Sitting there at the red light, I just kept looking over at him. I had no idea what to do.

The nudge happened again.

I took off my seatbelt, grabbed all four of our coupons, and told Lisa that I would be back. If not, I would walk over to Chick-Fil-A to meet up with them. So I jumped out of our truck and ran across the three lanes of stopped traffic.

Surprised, the guy turned to see who this was that had now entered his turf. I wanted to take off my sandals because I became aware that I was standing on Holy ground at that moment. I told him that I had a free sandwich for him and quickly noticed another guy resting under the overpass. I asked if he knew of anyone else that could use a free chicken sandwich and then proceeded to give him all four coupons. He lit up and thanked me repeatedly.

I told him that I wished I could do more... ((nudge)) then I asked if I could pray with him. He instantly teared up and his voice cracked as he attempted to keep his composure. He proceeded to tell me how he was a Vet and was dying. He pulled out of his pocket half a dozen inhalers that are keeping him alive. He told me that on October the 19th he was going to go before a judge to try to plead for Veteran Assistance so that he could obtain the necessary medication needed to stay alive.

His life is hanging in the balance of our judicial system. I was staring into the eyes of a dying man that the world had forgotten about.

So we prayed together. I started praying for him very generally but moved more specifically to his plight then I asked him his name.

"My name is Rebel," he replied.

"Rebel?"

"Yeah, Rebel," he said gently.

With tears in both our eyes I concluded my prayer for my brother Rebel. We embraced, hugging like long lost brothers or like soldiers realizing that this may be their last encounter before heading into an uncertain battle. I shared with him the reason I cared for him and told him that Jesus loved him. He already knew Jesus. He then began to share with me the hope that he has because of his faith and trust in Jesus. We were both a mess at this point.

At that moment I knew that I was looking into Jesus' eyes, not Rebel's.

Now, I was somewhat hesitant to share this story because it would be easy to assume that this story is about me. That's not true. It is not about me but it does involve me. The real protagonist of this story is Jesus. See, I believe that faith in Jesus is almost pointless without it leading to action. I mean, what good is it to gain knowledge or spirituality or even believe in Jesus if it doesn't allow you to fully live a transformed life; to live as a spiritual activist for Jesus?

Jesus is my best friend. He is the One in whom I have utmost confidence. He gently nudged me and told me to go ahead. His affirmation was the only approval I needed to gain the confidence necessary to act but it was still up to me to move. It all started with His gentle nudge.

I am working on some rejuvenation to this blogsite. You'll now notice that when you visit www.coveredindust.com it actually says just that in the URL. I am no longer known as dust-covered.blogspot.com (even though that does still technically work). This is just the first phase.

The second phase is a new look and feel. I have been collecting images and will be contracting a very well known photographer in Austin to help with some of the artwork here too. She is seriously gifted and in high demand as one of Austin's top photographers. Of course, my wife is also very modest and probably hates that I am talking her up so much. But, I believe in her and love her work! You should hire her- http://www.illuminatephotography.com.

Phase three has yet to be determined but there are a few things on the horizon. I have been contemplating converting to Wordpress. I like the flexibility of themes and usability. The caveat- it costs money. This would then mean that I would probably end up needing to incorporate some element of advertising... which really doesn't appeal to me a whole lot. I am also trying to put together some different functions for a visual bookshelf. The sharing function will also get enhanced during this third phase (you know, that little thing labeled "bookmark" down at the bottom of each post).

Anyway, that's about it for right now but I am excited to be giving this place a bit of a new look and feel. The one thing that will not change? Content. Content will continue to be what it has been- learnings from my journey with Christ.